Fall is here. Kids are back in school. Leaves are turning red and falling to the ground. The air is getting crisper every morning. It feels like the real New Year to me.

To my Jewish friends, it is.

Tonight, I'm going to join my friends in their beautiful tradition. I'll serve my kids apples, honey, and challah bread and explain this bittersweet celebration called Rosh Hashanah. I'll tell them that the apples and honey signify a sweet new year and that the challah represents the cycle of life.

And for the next ten days, I'll be doing a little soul searching.

I started a little early. On Sunday... maybe it was Monday... I was looking at a table that has been sitting in pieces in my living room. I don't know what to do with it. It's too big for the Sugar Shack and I can't find anyone that needs it. I could just give it to strangers, but it's a special table. It was the table I served dinner to my whole family at. All four of my children and my husband. I sat there in my living room on Sunday (yes, I'm sure it was Sunday), staring at it, thinking about how my family is all in pieces, just like the table. I cried at the brokenness. I cried about all that we aren't. I cried over all the things I had no control over.

I cried for my part in it.

The timing of Yom Kippur has special meaning for me this year. I have a new adventure that I'm embarking on the very next day. I didn't plan it. It just happened to fall on that day. But as I've come to understand, nothing "just happens" in life. I know that if I'm to move forward on that path, I have to clear some things out of the way first. It would be so wonderful to start off with a clean slate.